Legs cramped,
stuck in this plasticized mold.
Hold me
back from experience.
Hold me
so I forget what’s outside.
Hold me
contained in safety.
Falling out of these arms
leaves me with no skin,
fluttering,
formless.
Freedom scares me,
how dare me
release the net.
I obviously haven’t let go of it yet.
Makes me sweat,
experiencing this post-indecision,
post-derision self sanctified solitude.
I found her nourishment hollow food,
I still ate.
Came back for more,
emotional whore,
s o l d o u t.
We would talk about
the lack of connection,
a drama filled reflection,
bad feng shui.
Cluttered thoughts clash,
mirrors turn to broken glass.
Sharp terrain to tread.
Feet cut bled red.
We turn away-
bloody footprints follow
two directions.
A red stained glass intersection.
Archie Underwood
5/2007
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
RAW! I love the dance between the desire to leave, the chaotic responsibility and straight-up pain! I would LOVE to hear you read this one….
I will gladly read it to you, it has a pretty good cadence when read.
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